


Conversations at a Party

by sparklight



Series: Courting Ganymede [5]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Background Hera/Zeus, Family Feels, Friendship, Homesickness, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Insecurity, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24685915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: Ganymede's first huge party comes with a lot less concern about his performance than the family party of a year and a half ago, but a lot more relationship insecurity and homesickness. There's help to get, though.
Relationships: Ganymede & Hebe (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Ganymede/Zeus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Series: Courting Ganymede [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672690
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Conversations at a Party

"So what _is_ this about, my lord?"

The huge hall spread out in front of them seemed to stretch out into forever, gilded and painted pillars holding up a roof decorated with stars and planets and the Milky Way far above, and right now it was full of people, music and dancing. It looked out over the large garden and, in the distance between the trees, the large building where where Zeus gathered all deities, rivers and nymphs and whatever and whoever else for various announcements or sometimes discussion, necessary since neither the megaron nor the council hall were for such large gatherings of people.

Ganymede wasn't sure whether this room, filled with all the people, was more or less impressive than the great gathering hall, for the roof for that one domed and so high up it was dizzying, to account for the rows and rows of beautifully carved marble seating that rose up at an angle towards the ceiling. Maybe it didn't matter; they were both breathtaking in their own ways. He was just deeply glad that, aside from the first drink he'd poured all twelve, he was only attending Zeus and Hera tonight. Even just the extended "closer" family present would have been difficult to downright impossible to serve with any sort of alacrity, ease, and respect, so Ganymede could only be thankful he didn't need to. Though he also hoped he wasn't actually meant to be keeping an eye on both Queen Hera and Zeus and know when either of them wished for a refill, for Hera had slipped off the couch she shared with Zeus a short while ago and had now quite disappeared.

"Commemoration for our defeat of the Titans," Zeus said, splayed at an indolent lean all over the couch. For all that he'd shared it with his wife with grace and ease earlier, right now it barely seemed large enough to hold Zeus alone, never mind Queen Hera as well. "We hold one either at Poseidon's palace or here every Great Year, as we can hardly have Hades take his turn as host."

Zeus smirked, tone ironic. The Host of Many could not be a host. It was just not easy logistically (any food or drink would have to be brought, which basically nullified half the reason to force Hades to host anyway), and many would be too uncomfortable or afraid to attend. Besides, the Underworld just wasn't a particularly pleasant place to host a party, even if Hades' palace certainly was a jewelled display of elegance and power. The Underworld was atmospheric, to be sure, but it wasn't the sort of atmosphere most would be looking for in a _party_.

Nodding, Ganymede looked out over the floor again, the opposite walls so distant the hall seemed a sea, the crowd colourful, jewelled fish. He said exactly that aloud, and Zeus laughed, the sound of it like thunder as it filled the air, and Ganymede, watching from the corner of his eye with a little smile on his face, felt stupidly pleased to have made him smile. Smiled sucked his next breath in sharply, heat slowly rising to his cheeks as Zeus ghosted a couple fingertips over the skin around his back, just above the belt to his kilt. 

He could have stepped away, he didn't. 

He _did_ glance around, though, but the way he was standing right next to the front edge of the head of the couch and with the couch itself partially closed in between two pillars and a couple small, potted fragrant bushes, there was no one to see anything. Ganymede shivered as those fingers dipped down into the curve of his spine, then slid back, low enough Zeus could catch a pinch of sea silk and rub it between his fingers.

"Zeus..."

"Shhh," Zeus chuckled, dropping the fabric and squeezing his hip before he took his hand back, "no one can see."

His amusement flashed silver with a wink, but he was now settled back all properly, for all appearances as regal as one could please even with his sprawl. The lazy wave of his cascading hair was held back with a golden olive wreath, and there were olives made of peridot among the bright leaves, matching the colour of his tunic.

"Should I just have worn a tunic like usual, my lord?" Ganymede shook his head with a laugh, dispelling the blush, and Zeus snorted, smacking one hand to the heavily carved arm of the couch.

"If you think a tunic would be enough to hide the shapely form of your body, I'll have to disappoint you, beloved."

Oh. That was just not fair. Ganymede ducked his head, chest feeling tight. No one was close enough to easily hear that, as little as they could have seen Zeus' hand on his back, but he said it so easily. Said it right here when anyone _could_ hear, as if he'd never had any doubts about Ganymede and what he felt for him at all, when that was only a little over half a year ago. So long, yet no time at all. Ganymede had been on Olympos for little over a year and half now, and it felt all the more easy and right as the months passed.

"You could wear rags and ashes and none, living or dead, mortal or immortal, would ever doubt your beauty or godlike perfection."

"Yes, I know." Ganymede rolled his eyes, but his smile was warmly pleased, for how could he not be? Zeus' narrowing expression softened in a pleased huff and he took a sip of the sparkling nectar while Ganymede looked over the room again, a smile blooming out on his face for another reason entirely. "Do you need me presently, piḫaššaššiš?"

Zeus, who also had spotted Hebe, shook his head. "Go."

Smile widening into a grin, Ganymede put the jug down on a nearby little table and then strode off, not _quite_ jogging, but he did want to catch up to Hebe before she rejoined her little knot of nymph friends. Not that they weren't perfectly nice girls, but they were Hebe's friends, not his, and while Hebe was comfortable and relaxed with him, the nymphs... not so much. They tended to react much like a lot of girls back in Troy had, and while Ganymede didn't precisely mind it as such, since he couldn't muster interest to even pretend to reciprocate, it was all just rather awkward.

"Hebe!"

She turned and smiled, stopping obligingly and waving him closer, hooking her arm with his when he was within reach to do so. The acorns dangling from the armlet he wore dug into both their arms as it was caught between them, but Hebe didn't move immediately to ease the discomfort. "Father let you out into the wild, I see!"

"Like he needs me at his side constantly! It's not like he drinks enough to need constant refilling." Rolling his eyes, he shoved his elbow out to gently jostle her and Hebe sniggered - quiet, but unmistakeably, and Ganymede smiled to hear it.

"Oh, like that's why he'd keep you there," she said, eyeing him very pointedly with one heavy eyebrow raised.

" _Hebe_!" Hissing, Ganymede felt himself flush and only didn't look around on pure stubbornness. It wasn't that Ganymede wasn't aware people knew about it - he'd told Hebe himself, too - it was just... there was hardly any need to call attention to it! At least Hebe had blushed right after she met his eyes, so he wasn't alone about it.

"Sorry," she whispered, cheeks still glowing and head ducked enough only Ganymede was able to see her face, shorter than her as he was. He shook his head, dismissing it. She chose the most unfortunate times to tease him, sometimes...

"Come dance with me for a bit, I'm sure Dad can spare you for a little longer!"

Opening his mouth, Ganymede paused. Shrugged waved them on, his smile back on his face. "Absolutely."

He liked dancing after all, and when you were dancing there was no risk of awkward, giggly conversation while this or that nymph looked away with a blush. And while there would definitely be more strict form in terms of lines for dancing among the mortals, unless the group was small and it was easy to coordinate, here the important thing was that there was two lines of any form at all. Ganymede ended up with Hebe on one side and Hymen on the other, one wrist each in his hands, while the rest of the Erotes went opposite them and a couple nymphs filled the lines out as needed.

They were all breathless and laughing when they finally separated, though Ganymede made a quick decision and snagged Hebe by the waist. She yelped as he heaved her up with a grunt and twirled her around to her laughing protest. He put her down quickly after, for even if the height difference between them was less than the difference between Ganymede and most other deities, it was still not easy. She was also heavier than a mortal human girl, even one of her great height, would be; proof of what she was.

"What was _that for_?" Hebe laughed, shoving at his shoulders when she had her feet on the floor again. Ganymede shrugged, about to excuse it with nothing more than exuberance left from the dancing, to tease her, but then paused. Shrugged again and smiled a little, softer and more quiet than before. Hebe caught her breath and tipped her head, and though there was something nearly glowing in her stare, she wasn't blushing, at least.

"Because of you," he said slowly, "I don't think any of this would've been even close to as easy as it has without you, Hebe. Thanks for being there from the beginning."

 _Now_ she blushed, but it was the sort of blush that came with compliments, with Hebe being flustered from the extra attention no matter who it came from. She fiddled with her skirts as she shook her head, a smile quirking her lips. She was wearing the older flounced style instead of the straight fall of dress she wore day to day, and while some of the nymphs, Nereids and Oceanids and goddesses present were wearing the short, tight robes that went with the wrap-around, flounced skirts partially transparent for the occasion, Hebe was definitely not one of those.

"You _apologised_ the first thing you did, and I knew I had befriend you!" Despite the fiddling with her skirt and her ducked head, Hebe laughed quietly. "Besides, someone had to give you a better first impression than Eros was bound to do - and did do."

Both of them looked sideways, over to where the Erotes and Phobos and Deimos had gathered around a table, though the latter two stood slightly to one side next to Eros, clearly apart from the others, and then shared a look with each other.

"Yeah." Rolling his eyes, Ganymede looked back towards group, and spotted Eros waving him over. "Talking of. I'll talk to you later."

Hebe waved him off and Ganymede, though he knew he should go back to Zeus soon, wandered over to the crowded table. Things hadn't started too smoothly between him and Eros, but he had become a good friend in the year and a half he'd been here. That there then also was the rest of the Erotes to deal with was still a little intimidating, and Ganymede wondered who had suggested to take the introduction of them in stages - it could not be Eros himself, he just couldn't see it. Whoever it had been, he was grateful for it, though he had come to like them all well enough, if admittedly favouring some of them over others. Not that he'd _say that_. But it was certainly the reason he eyed the arrangement around the table and suppressed a just slightly regretful sigh over the fact that there was no space next to Hymen aside from the spot next to Eros himself. Still, Ganymede wasn't as reluctant to get in on Eros' other side, closer to Phobos and Deimos than the others apparently were willing to be. Admittedly it was less out of a sense of daring and more due to firm determination to not let himself be intimidated, especially so since it was unlikely either Phobos or Deimos even noticed they were intimidating, or intended to be.

Then again, as Phobos looked at him over both of his brothers' heads and smirked toothily, maybe they _did_ intend to be. In that case, at least, Ganymede wasn't the only intended target. He dropped his gaze down to Eros and arched an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Just rescuing you from Hebe and her giggly flower entourage," Eros said with a grin and Ganymede grunted as Pothos slapped his back, hard enough he staggered against the table. There was the urge to throw a glower up at him, but... he didn't.

"I was no where near her nymph friends, so I'm not sure I can swoon in gratitude for a rescue I didn't need!"

"Ungrateful!" Eros gasped and then waved a hand at the seat opposite him, clearly wanting an opponent because there was a board for the Game of Ur on the table. "Make up for it by playing a round. I promise not to cheat."

Ganymede eyed Eros and his wide smirk, then rolled his eyes. Feeling certain enough with where he stood with Eros, he lightly shoved his shoulder. "I don't think so. Not when you apparently lost the previous round."

Laughter exploded around him, confirming his suspicions, and it was Ganymede's turn to smirk as Eros huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Besides, I should go back. I _am_ still working. Someone beat him again for me," Ganymede said, his earlier grin still lingering. Deimos promptly sniggered an 'I will!' and slid around the table to take the empty seat. "Thank you, Lord Deimos."

Giving the whole group a parting wave, Ganymede turned away and surveyed the room again. They'd not actually stayed in one place while dancing earlier, so he was a little lost if he was to be honest, but he wasn't going to _admit to that_. They couldn't be so very deep into the vast feasting hall, and he was pretty sure he could see where he needed to go. Taking a guess, he shrugged to himself and wandered off. If he was wrong, _then_ he would ask someone. Honestly he should've asked Hebe before they parted, just to see if she had advice to navigate this giant room when it was filled with people and small potted trees and bushes as well as hanging garlands. Hestia and Hebe had shown it to him while it was still empty, and it'd been breathtaking then all on its own. Now that it was decorated and filled with people it was frankly kind of overwhelming. At least when it was empty it was easy to get a clear line of sight from one end of the room to the other with only the pillars in the way.

He was pretty sure he wouldn't actually have to ask anyone for directions or help, for he could see the huge double doors off in the distance to the right, so he was going in the correct direction. Distracted as he was, Ganymede rounded a pillar and a potted, firmly pruned myrtle bush, and almost ran into someone.

"I'm sorry my---" Blinking, he tipped his head back, staring up at a tall woman with rich, reddish-blonde hair and deeply blue-violet eyes. "... lady."

He recognized her. 

And by the way those brilliant eyes widened and she flushed, if only briefly, she recognized him too. It apparently didn't stop her from giving him a lingering once-over out of the corner of her eye, partially shielded by her thick fan of lashes, but not shielded enough to go unnoticed. Not with the weight of divinity behind it, not with the sheer, flushed _admiration_. Ganymede squirmed, but raised his chin. Somehow managed not to arch a sharply inquiring eyebrow, for that was really not the way to stare at a goddess.

"I'm Eos, Prince Ganymede," she said after she stopped staring and met his eyes like she _hadn't_ been eyeing him as wanting as she had. Not many did it quite so boldly, whether before he'd been taken or after. Maybe they had in the first few months, for he could remember some definitely had, though again not as openly and hungrily as Eos. They’d stopped as the months wore on, though, because despite that he and Zeus had been, he thought, reasonably subtle, it was clear people at least knew he was out of bounds now, no matter if they knew he was literally in Zeus' bed or not.

... Most probably did know. Ganymede wasn't sure what he thought about that. He'd been given his position with no other intent (probably. Mostly?), and it was an honour, well-deserved on his own merit, and mostly Ganymede didn't really _care_ what other people might think but sometimes... 

Sometimes, he wasn't sure what that made him feel, that they knew, and what they might think about it and his purpose for being here at all. Mostly it worked pretty well to remind himself that certainly no one else had been given what he had. Suppressing a sigh, Ganymede pushed those thoughts aside. It helped to think about the genuine affection in Zeus' eyes; it made the uncertainty worth it.

"I was pretty sure you were a goddess when you disappeared like that when we first met, my lady," he murmured, looking away. It should have been obvious from her very first appearance really, but she'd been working hard on disguising herself, so even with how stunningly beautiful she'd been he hadn't really thought he was looking at a goddess. Not with the way she'd been standing in the middle of a grazing field, sheep and grass around them. It'd seemed a bit too ridiculous and fantastic, not to talk about self-aggrandizing. He knew what he looked like, but before he'd had two deities attempt (and one of them succeeding) to kidnap him for it, Ganymede wouldn't have dared to assume he was so very stunning he could catch the eyes of the Blessed Ones.

Clearly he could assume so, though, and the looks he'd gotten since he was brought here had driven the point home. At least he didn't stand out in a negative way, as small of a comfort as that was. Mostly the whole thing was kind of awkward.

"I got startled," Eos said with a huff, shaking her head, "I should just have ignored..."

She trailed off, and this time when she looked down at Ganymede, he was pinned by the weight of her stare, his skin prickling. There seemed to be a rosy gleam about her head again, and this time there was no full glare of the sun to give easy explanation for it. He could, maybe, have moved if he really tried, but Eos didn't reach for him and finally looked away, towards the general direction he'd been heading back towards.

"Though, even if I had done so, the moment I came here to ask for immortality and eternal youth for you, I would probably have lost you, if not before." Eos sighed, shaking her head. 

Ganymede wondered suddenly if Zeus really would have done anything if Eos _had_ taken him. He would have seen him when Eos presented him, but... Both Apollo and Zeus had said he'd surprised him. Presumably not because of his beauty, not exactly that anyway, so Ganymede suspected it was rather because he was an exception. 

So, then, if that was true, if Eos had gotten to him before Zeus did, maybe he would have let that be reason enough _not_ to take him? In general, and from Eos specifically. A chance to ignore what Ganymede was making him feel. And that... well, he might not have chosen to be here, but if it had to happen at all, was it so very wrong to be pleased things had happened as they had? Eos might be breathlessly beautiful, and her divinity was a force that might have eased the way, but she was still definitely very much a woman. No matter her preferences in bed, Ganymede might have been disappointing eventually simply because he could not get the full pleasure from it. Where would that then have left him? Following hard on that thought came another; where would it leave him if Zeus lost interest? Probably not much different, aside from the obvious, like he'd told Queen Hera. The idea was still surprisingly daunting, and not something he wanted. Even less so than when he’d been here only a month.

"I don't know about that, Lady Eos," Ganymede said slowly, though even when she eyed him, inquiry written plainly on her face, he only bent his head and looked away. It was hardly his place to be revealing Zeus' feelings, _if_ he even was correct in what he'd picked up out of the implications that'd been said to him.

"I suppose," she said with a sigh, "I apologize for the scare I gave you, Prince Ganymede."

Before he had a chance to say anything, or even look up, really, Eos turned smartly on her heel and walked off, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Ganymede could feel eyes on him now, his conversation with Eos apparently having drawn attention and interest, but he didn't look around. Just straightened up, raised his chin again, and walked off, too, back to where he'd been most of the evening so far.

"Ganymede?" Zeus cocked his head in question as Ganymede came around one of the two pillars framing the couch, picking up the decanter again. With Hera still somewhere else in the dizzyingly vast room he felt no compunction about cocking his hip against Zeus' and Hera's couch, leaning against it. Clearing his throat, Ganymede shook his head, feeling strangely embarrassed, suddenly.

"It's nothing." Half hoping that would be it, Ganymede was not surprised when Zeus just kept staring, his eyes even narrowing a little. With a sigh, he gave in. "I ran into Lady Eos... she, um---" 

Whether Ganymede fell silent because he was uncertain how to proceed, or if it was for the way Zeus' expression had sharpened, his gray eyes narrowing from inquiry to alertness, he didn't know.

"She kept her hands to herself, this time?"

"You know..?" Ganymede blinked, then shook his head again. "I mean, yes, my lord, of course she did. But you know what happened, before you took me?"

"Eos has wandering hands and issues with staying away from the beauty of youths despite her marriage bed."

"As if _you_ don't?" The teasing words fell out with a playful grin, Ganymede freezing right after, eyebrows still arched high on his forehead. The half-pointed smirk quickly softened into uncertainty as he registered what he'd said. Wide-eyed, he stared at Zeus, who looked equally taken aback for a crucial moment or two, but as he, too, realized what Ganymede had said, he would surely--- Zeus laughed. The startling thunder of the sound rolled out around them, wrapping around Ganymede and melting his alarm. Zeus leaned over, lightly flicking his temple and snatching a curl to tug.

"Don't say things like that out here where I can't correct you, my prince." 

Gray eyed had turned intently lazy silver, and the pitch of Zeus' voice dropped on 'correct' in a way that had Ganymede shifting on his feet. Many others would undoubtedly have been faced with anger, the humiliation Zeus felt for being called out in such a way carefully hidden, but Zeus' treasured cupbearer got warm amusement instead. 

Ganymede ducked his head, cheeks hot, and tried not to smile. He'd been honestly worried for a moment there, but every time that he said something he thought would stir Zeus' anger, it hadn't. Didn't mean he should push his luck or would ever mean to do such things intentionally, but it was a relief that this was the reaction he'd gotten. Maybe the fact that he knew Ganymede did not mean it as mocking helped, for mostly, every time it happened, Zeus seemed pleased to find him relaxed enough to say whatever he'd said that'd then made him hesitate. This time was the same, and though he'd clearly threatened "punishment" it was the sort of punishment that would be in no wise unpleasant to bear. Ganymede finally lost his battle and grinned, looking up at Zeus from under his lowered lashes.

"And don't do that either, when there is no easy way to slip away, if only for a short while," Zeus said with a chuckle, thumb rubbing the soft strands wound about his fingers before he let go, cocking his head slightly as he continued, "but no, I don't, not in the way you might be thinking. Eros and Aphrodite have certainly played with me at times before and undoubtedly will again until I find a way to curb their behaviour, but Eos can help herself even less. Aphrodite cursed her, some time ago."

Blinking, Ganymede nodded slowly. "I think I've heard something like that?"

He couldn't remember the exact details, but now that Zeus had brought it up it sounded vaguely familiar. Perhaps he'd been told and just not found it necessary to commit to memory. Zeus grunted, tapping the curving wood at the head of the couch.

"Indeed. Aphrodite was very interested in introducing young Ares to the delights of lovemaking, and Eos got in the way. She was most wroth," he said, voice heavy with wry amusement and rolling his eyes, "since then, Eos pursues young men with little choice even if I suspect her taste would run that way either way, mortal and immortal both, and Aphrodite hasn't found fit to lift the curse yet. Though I suppose I ought to thank Eos, it was after all her attentiveness that brought you to _my_ attention."

Zeus grinned, a smile that widened further as Ganymede's surprise slowly turned into suspicion, and then comprehension, connecting now what Zeus had said with Eos earlier saying she had been _startled_ and that she should have ignored something. The only thing there had been to ignore had been the eagle missing to catch the rabbit - Nikomedes could hardly count as a true obstacle.

"The eagle... that warned her off. That was you?"

"Not me, but my eagle, yes," Zeus said with a chuckle, holding out his empty kylix, voice lazy as he continued, "if I had done nothing, she would have run off with you, and I wanted some time to observe."

Ganymede didn't point out that 'some time' had apparently been _a year_ as he lifted the jug and poured with easy grace and familiarity of the motion. He watched Zeus from under his lashes more than the stream of rose-gold nectar that was quite literally sparkling, aside from having a fizz to it (there was wine available, but Zeus hadn't touched any of it yet). Watching, because following the realization that Zeus had warned Eos off was the understanding that Zeus had apparently been watching. For a year. Presumably not constantly, but often enough!

"You were watching, the whole---?" Ganymede pulled a face, heat crawling into his cheeks. That it confirmed that Zeus had apparently been wrestling with himself for that long before he could no longer restrain his desire, even if he then still had cloaked it behind the very real and reasonable pretext he'd given for bringing Ganymede to Olympos, was only a brief distraction.

"Not _all_ the time," Zeus said, his tone as heavy as the amusement on his face, picking up what Ganymede was reacting to, and smirking shamelessly on top of it. Ganymede could say something about what he'd been thinking about, realizing about Zeus’ hesitation, but that might spoil the mood and he was not so very put off to do so. Further, the gods could see whoever and wherever they wished if they cared to look or their attention was called, so he was hardly exceptional. This wasn't something spectacular, aside perhaps from the length of time involved.

"Just often enough," he pointed out, and Zeus tipped his kylix in silent acknowledgement as Ganymede straightened his decanter, the cup now full. Zeus didn't spill it, even if he was looking at Ganymede and not his kylix, then slowly raised it to drink from it, pointed and slow. Ganymede ended up looking away from that stare and steadfastly ignoring the chuckle.

"Never mind that, now." Zeus straightened up a little, gesturing Ganymede closer, serious now. Confused, Ganymede put the jug down and came around the edge of the couch, looking over as Zeus pointed off towards one of the small rooms that the vast feasting hall was lined with. "You'll find something in there for you."

Looking from the door he could just barely see at this angle and back to Zeus, Ganymede almost asked what it was about, but Zeus only shook his head and shooed him away. 

There would be no explanations, apparently. Utterly confused, he nodded and crossed the floor, pushing open the door since it wasn't closed the whole way. Peeking inside, a little wary, he paused there for stunned moment, eyes widening.

"Grandfather?"

Shoving the door open and stepping inside so he could kick it closed, Ganymede was across the floor before he'd thought about it, but by that point Scamandros had stood up, grasping his grandson's outstretched hands as soon as he was within reach.

"Ganymede." It was a pleased, perhaps relieved, exhale as much as it was a tired sigh, and Ganymede found himself pulled into an embrace a second later, with one of Simoeis' hands on one of his shoulders. He had, of course, not met his grandfather or great-grandfather particularly often, but even for as little as it'd been he found himself clutching at Scamandros' tunic with a strength that surprised him. Perhaps it was as simple as that they were familiar faces, and Ganymede knew they would care because he was who he was and what he was to them, not for any other possible reason. He had to swallow heavily, his throat surprisingly tight, as Scamandros let go and Simoeis turned him around to study him, large, heavy hands on his shoulders.

"I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I believe it wasn't this, even after hearing the announcement," Simoeis said wryly, though while the glance he threw to the door behind Ganymede was sharp and he squeezed the slim, if strong, shoulders under his hands warmly, he didn't seem angry as such. Ganymede opened his mouth even if he was uncertain about what to say. He just felt like he should say _something_. Scamandros waved his fellow river off and extracted Ganymede from under Simoeis' hands, directing him to sit down on the couch the two gods had been using earlier.

"I think I am more concerned with Ganymede not being entirely unhappy, since this was probably unavoidable," he said heavily, carrying tones of something that clearly had been argued about before as he looked down, laying a faintly liquid-shimmering hand back on Ganymede's shoulder and continued, "are you?"

"Happy, or not entirely unhappy?" Ganymede asked with a lopsided little grin, even if he had understood the question and what his grandfather had meant. Scamandros sighed and Simoeis snorted, but his grandfather didn't reprimand him, merely shook his shoulder gently.

"Either. Both. They're connected, after all." 

Ganymede knew he was stalling, partially because it was a large question, partially because of what he'd been thinking on this evening, even if he hadn't intended to. It wasn't, really, a difficult question to answer, even when it came with some complicating concerns. It was more that it somehow felt like it _should be_ difficult. That he should perhaps be less relaxed about all of this than he was. But the genuine affection Zeus had for him, and the way everything had happened...

"Definitely not _unhappy_ ," he said finally, glancing between the two river gods, "I... might not have chosen it, but it's not _bad_ , and Zeus---"

He stopped, colouring. That wasn't how he should be talking about Zeus to others, at least not others who weren't the gods of Olympos, he was pretty sure. He didn't get the chance to try and save the situation, or walk it back, or whatever he needed to do, for Scamandros smiled faintly, looking in a similar way to how he’d looked when he'd first hugged him, and Simoeis snorted.

"That answers that, I suppose," he said with a grunt, and Ganymede couldn't for the life of him decipher if his great-grandfather was displeased or relieved and just annoyed on principle. Either way it left him feeling distinctly awkward and flustered, still.

"I'm---"

"What matters is that you _can_ say his name so easily, Ganymede. It says more than enough," Scamandros said, squeezing his shoulder again, but he was frowning, too, no matter how relieved he seemed as he continued, "more than that, though, can you live like this?"

Could he live like this? The question repeated in his head, swirling around. He’d never thought of that, before. Was there a _choice_ , here? Maybe Zeus really would let him go, if he asked, but on the other hand, by this point Ganymede wasn't sure he would actually want that. And yes, that was in spite - or maybe despite - of what people might think, despite, or perhaps in spite of, Queen Hera's pointed glares.

"I'm getting used to it, and it really is better than I thought it would have been, in the beginning. And---" He bit his bottom lip, glancing between Simoeis and Scamandros, then his gaze wandered over to the closed door. There was no noise from the celebration outside leaking through, but it was still happening there, outside of the closed door. "... I don't think I _want_ to let go of it. Even if I should."

Even Hebe didn't know that. Maybe he'd tell her sometime later, much, much later, if this really lasted. He wasn't so sure he'd want to stay here if Zeus lost interest, and was even less sure of what he’d want, or could do, if he could leave in the case Zeus did lose interest. But as long as he _was_ interested, Ganymede now found himself very reluctant to just give things up. Not that he was certain there was a choice either way, since he'd been brought here for more than just Zeus' desire and, he thought, growing affection. If there was a point to the position of cupbearer, and from what he understood, there _was_ , there then had to be one. And yes, there was Hebe, of course, but now that it had mostly been handed over to him, could it really be transferred back so easily? Not the simple act of it, of course, that basically anyone could do, but the position itself, the meaning and the weight of it?

"If you have a chance to, you _should_ , yes," Simoeis grumbled, but the hand he raised to half ruffle Ganymede's hair, half run his hand through it, was gentle. "Queen Hera is not someone to trifle with. She's been leaving you alone?"

Ganymede allowed himself a wry, tense laugh at the disbelief in his great-grandfather's voice. He shared the disbelief, though on the more wary end. More than that, it was freeing to be able to sit in the company of two people who cared about him like this. "Kind of? She hasn't... done anything to me. Barely spoken to me, really, but she makes it more than clear what she thinks, outside of situations where I'm performing my official function."

"For now." Scamandros sighed, and Ganymede, though he would rather not think too deeply on the possibility of something happening when he probably could do nothing about it, nodded. For now, indeed. And hopefully it'd stay that way; for as unsettling as the cutting glares were, speaking as much to what she thought as if she'd actually say something about it, they were just glares. As little pleased as she was with what was going on, Ganymede could only assume his legitimately well-deserved position was what stopped her from any direct action. Perhaps, too, because this was just not something Zeus usually _did_ with or for people he got involved with. He didn't know.

"It's not like I can do anything about it either way," he said quietly, pulling a leg up against him and wrapping his arms around it, biting his lip. Should he want any of this at all? Probably not, but he _did_ , and he'd rather feel somewhat okay with it all rather than be suffering under the weight of all of this being entirely unwanted. He hadn't chosen it, no, and if he'd been asked either before Zeus took him or before he granted him immortality and could safely do so, he might have decline regardless of if he knew what would happen or not, but that wasn't what had happened. Still, Zeus was… Zeus _was_ very attractive, and being offered a position like this was a great honour. Maybe he would have accepted anyway.

"You're a credit to yourself and our house, Ganymede," Scamandros said as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the crown of Ganymede's head, "and I'm sure all of us would rather you be at least not unhappy than suffering for it."

Ganymede glanced up and had to press his lips together not to smile at the pointed look his grandfather shot Simoeis, who snorted and flapped a hand in silent, exasperated agreement. Before his great-grandfather could say something, if he even would have, Ganymede glanced to Scamandros, taking the chance to ask a question.

"What did you mean, that it was unavoidable?"

It couldn't have anything to do with the unpleasant episode with King Minos, since an earthly king, however powerful, wasn't a god. He doubted, too, that it could be about Eos either, since no one but he, Eos and Zeus knew about that, but his grandfather had sounded so certain about the _unavoidable_ part. The two river gods shared a look between them, then looked down at Ganymede. Their green eyes were bright and nearly glowing, and while he before - and even up until now - hadn't ever felt much of divine weight from their stares, it was there now, like the faint weight of a blanket draped over his head and shoulders.

"Perhaps not precisely this," Simoeis said with a shake of his head, "and a baby doesn't say much about what he as a child will look like as a youth or adult, but even as a baby you were exceedingly beautiful, Ganymede. Such things come with a price."

Pulling a face, Ganymede glanced between them again, somewhat incredulous. "Even that early?"

To be sure he'd been hearing about _how comely_ he was as long as he could remember, always followed by _and such a good, conscientious boy, too_. He'd never really thought about it much, aside from knowing he didn't have the instincts for fighting. Being fair-minded had often landed him in the role of mediator or referee more often than he'd have liked when he'd most often would have liked to _participate_ in whatever game they were playing, but if it came with a prize, the other boys had always insisted. He'd mostly thought it was because he was the prince.

"Inside as outside, Ganymede. That was obvious even earlier than what you might turn out as a youth." Simoeis grabbed his chin gently, tipping his face up. "Such things always risk bringing divine attention, but exceptionalism will turn it into more than that. Perhaps if we hadn't kept marrying our daughters into the line of Dardanos..."

He snorted, shaking his head and let go, his large hand briefly cradling Ganymede’s face before it dropped away.

"Humans aren't without their own beauty," Scamandros said, shaking his head as well as he smiled, if a little sadly, down at Ganymede, "so even if we hadn't, I'm not convinced it wouldn't have ended here anyway. Dardanos was stunning, and I heard Iasion was as well. Father Zeus' mortal sons are often granted other qualities more strongly than divine beauty, but it seems to me that's what Dardanos both was given as well as gave his children. Even if Tros and his other two sons aren't as breathtaking as our youngest grandson, they're certainly more handsome than most."

True. Ganymede had heard that more than once too, if in slightly less lyrical words than was applied to himself or his mother or Cleopatra. The whole family was, honestly, beautiful beyond compare, just in slightly different ways and not quite equally. But be that as it may, he had another concern - a chance, he hoped, that he knew was probably impossible when it came to anyone else he was related to.

"So maybe it was unavoidable," Ganymede said slowly, looking up and not quite able to stifle the hope in his words, "and I'm trying not to miss everyone, and everything, but... will I be able to see the two of you more?"

Maybe he didn't know his grandfather and great-grandfather that well, but he did still know them, and it'd be... nice, if he could see them again. Scamandros smiled, and this time it was a lot less somber.

"Yes. Most obviously at feasts such as this, but as we are a little different from the rest of the family, it'll be far easier for us to come see you, and Father Zeus indicated that we were welcome to do so."

Simoeis, as disgruntled as he'd been on and off through this conversation every time Zeus had come up as part of it, nodded. He didn't look pleased, exactly, but there was a shade of warmth in his drawn, graven face. "Exactly so. I did admittedly not expect that..."

Ganymede hadn't either, but at the same time he wasn't entirely surprised. Maybe surprised he hadn't had to ask for it himself, but that made it so much sweeter of a gift, the whole of this, from getting to see Simoeis and Scamandros to knowing he would be seeing them at least somewhat regularly.

"Talking of family you might still be able to see," Scamandros said and stood up, nodding towards the door, "Elektra is here, and I'm sure she'd be pleased to meet you, as well as hearing more of your family."

He'd been standing up from the couch entirely on reflex, but now looked up, surprised. "The Pleiad Elektra? Dardanos' mother?"

The idea that he might get to meet the woman who was, in a way, his ultimate grandmother, was both a little intimidating and something he was undeniably interested in. It was honestly strange to realize the connections he did have among these beings, even if he'd grown up well aware of his ancestor's parentage. That was one thing. Actually meeting them in person was something else entirely.

"That Elektra, yes," Scamandros said with a chuckle, steering Ganymede towards the door.

The noise of the festivities outside were somewhat like a slap in the face - not a punch, just a surprise - when the door swung open to let them out. Music echoed loudly among the pillars, and Ganymede could tell at least a couple of the Muses were singing. There was dancing again, more than their little group earlier, and Ganymede, as he surveyed the floor, slowed to a stop. He hadn't meant to, but seeing Hera and Zeus in the line-up among the dancers were... not a surprise, really. No, that wasn't it at all. It was just a not so gentle reminder (again) that for whatever else he had, he could not have something like that. It wasn't even that he necessarily wanted to _marry Zeus_ , for what would that even look like? He wasn't a woman and didn't wish to be, but that also meant he couldn't do what Hera did, both _as a woman_ in her marriage to Zeus and what she did as the queen; that was a thoroughly ludicrous prospect! It was just...

"Are you sure you can live with this?" Simoeis came up on his other side, arms crossed over his chest and glancing down at him narrowly. Ganymede flushed and helplessly pulled a little face, then shrugged.

"... Does it matter?"

Did it matter if he wished he could have some of the things she had, like being able to do what the couple was now doing in plain sight of everyone? Did it matter if he truly could refuse and break things off while otherwise continuing with his appointed function, when he definitely didn't want to do that? He just wanted _more_ , and knew that wasn't in any way his right. He already had far more than he could expect. How much was he allowed to want? And what was he allowed to have of what he right now didn't? There was just no real guideline to follow, and no one to ask. He couldn’t see bringing this up to Zeus. A marriage between a man and a woman was at least clearly defined, but that was not at all what he wanted - in general or in connection to whatever his relationship with Zeus was. He just didn't know what else.

Simoeis' brilliant green eyes narrowed, but Scamandros got there before him, lightly clapping Ganymede's shoulder. "Is it worth it?"

That, at least, was a question Ganymede could answer more easily. He might normally have coated the answer in a lot more flippant ease, but at the moment he was raw enough that what came out was something closer to actual truth than he wished to so very openly expose.

"I think so, yes," he murmured, the soft swell of his lip caught between his teeth and only slowly looking away from the dancers, from Hera's radiant face and the pleased little smile on Zeus', and up at Scamandros, then to Simoeis. "You said we were going to see Elektra?"

They let him change the topic and nodded, leading him off into the vast hall. Ganymede was again left hoping he would find the way back, for this time he ended up a lot further from the entrance than after talking to Hebe and dancing. The scattered groups of women around were of more varying height, with a lot of them much closer to regular tall human height than the towering gods. It certainly made it easier for Ganymede to look around, even if most of them were still a little taller than he was.

"Elektra!" Scamandros called over towards a clump of several nymphs, and Ganymede was rather relieved it seemed like they weren’t going to impose themselves among the whole group. This could be strange enough; doing it while closely observed and surrounded by a whole group of unfamiliar nymphs wasn't exactly Ganymede's idea of fun. One of the slender women, willowy and her hair a vivid amber-coloured blonde contained in thick, wavy piles on top of her head and bound tresses, turned and, with an inquiring look in her dark eyes, came over.

"Yes, Xanthos?" She seemed utterly bewildered, which was understandable. How often did she talk to a pair of river gods from Asia Minor, even if she might know they'd married several of their daughters into the line of one of her sons? Ganymede, too, was briefly bewildered, then realized 'Xanthos' must be Scamandros, for Simoeis hadn't reacted in the least. It must be what the gods called him, then.

"This is Ganymede," Scamandros said as he pulled the youth in front of him, both hands on his shoulders. Ganymede, for his part, deprived as he was of making some sort of bow - should he, even, when he was related to this nymph? - straightened up and raised his face up to her. He smiled brightly but was also definitely about to open his mouth and greet her in the only way he had that felt even remotely suitable, even if they _were_ related. He didn't get to do much more than draw breath before a finger fell to his lips and Elektra was covering her softly open mouth with her other hand.

"Oh--- Well, then I shan't have you address me as _lady_ , no matter how impeccable your manners might be," she said with a smile as she dropped her hand, and Ganymede laughed sheepishly, briefly ducking his head.

"I had to try," he said, allowing a bit of a cheekiness into his voice, and Elektra laughed. Relaxing, Ganymede looked back up, meeting her midnight-dark, smiling eyes as she cocked her head. She reached out to brush a couple fingers through his curls and sighed, her smile turning a little wistful.

"You have his hair, and maybe a little of his nose as well," she murmured, looking him up and down, "it's pleasing to see something of my son in his descendants, still."

"My hair bleaches blonder than you'd think, in summer," Ganymede offered, the words just spilling out as he watched the lingering wistfulness on her face, "it's like that for all of us, actually, and it definitely doesn't come from my mother. So I think we've got something from you, too."

Elektra blinked, and then she smiled - a sweet sort of dawning, and reached out again, cupping Ganymede's smooth cheek. "I believe that would be from me, yes. Both Iasion and Dardanos bleached during summer, and you could think I alone had given them their hair colour then!"

This felt a little surreal, but in a good sort of way. As Ganymede watched Elektra, then glanced up at Scamandros behind him and Simoeis beside the other god, Ganymede realized he'd been feeling... not isolated, as such, for he had friends that were both growing in number and closer as the months passed, but it was different when he suddenly was presented with individuals who were reasonably closely related to him. It was an entirely different feeling than with his friends, or Hestia. It couldn't, of course, make up for his closest family being lost to him, and standing here with his grandfather, great-grandfather and what could be considered his ultimate grandmother, just made Ganymede miss his parents and siblings all the more. It helped, though, it really did.

"Here." Elektra took her hand back, so she could undo one of her beaded bracelets. It dripped with several rows of perfectly polished amber beads, every other one in each row containing some small insect or plant, either in whole or in part, caught in it. Ganymede held his hand out reflexively, and she laid the bracelet in his palm, closing his fingers around it. "If you wish to talk to me again before the next time I come by, you may whisper so to the bracelet and I'll hear it."

Elektra smiled, that same small, wistful little smile, and Ganymede was aware of Scamandros' squeezing his shoulders warmly. It was great, certainly, but while he was definitely grateful for it, it was a slightly surprising gift.

"Thank you," he said, and had to pause so he didn't call her _my lady_ before he cocked his head, a slight frown on his face and continued, "but, I'm not the only one of your descendants alive."

She knew this, surely. She must know who the current members of Troy's and Dardanos' royal family were, for otherwise his name just being announced to her as if that ought to mean anything beyond _Zeus' cupbearer_ would've been quite ridiculous. Elektra chuckled, a quiet, muted little thing, and his grandfather squeezed his shoulders again while Simoeis huffed.

"Oh, Ganymede. I know it might seem shallow from your still very mortal point of view, as you haven't lived long yet, but when you are immortal or long lived like all nymphs are, and some even more so than others, when you then have mortal children with human lifespans..." She trailed off, reaching out to brush soft fingers against his cheek. "It is kinder to oneself, unless you think you can bear it, to not entangle too deeply into the family that springs from you. Rest assured I am watching Troy very closely and that they are all important to me still, just as you were even before you were brought here and made immortal."

"That makes sense," he said slowly, shaking his head. It was a protective sort of calculation, cold in its inherent rejection, but it made sense. He felt a little sad for them, that such decisions were necessary to make, but it did make sense. Ganymede did not yet count himself among these long-lived beings, either consciously or subconsciously, but one day he would have to, and maybe this advice would be more than treasured, or cursed as a necessity, then. At the moment, such thoughts were very far away and Ganymede, after looking himself over and realizing he really didn't have much other option than to wear the bracelet, pushed it up over his hand and onto his wrist. It fit very well together with the seasilk kilt, at least.

It was a nice gift, but the best gift here was that he got to spend time with these people, with Scamandros and Simoeis in particular. That Zeus had thought of it, and made sure he got the chance and time tonight, even if he honestly should be doing other things, sat light and warm in Ganymede’s chest. Not that he was needed every second for a celebration such as this, when the feasting would undoubtedly be dragged long into the small hours of the night, but like he'd told the Erotes; he _did_ have a task, however light of one it was.

So, finally, Ganymede decided it really was time to go back, having this time been pointed in the right direction because they really were deep enough into the room he might have trouble finding his way back otherwise. Maybe later (as in, years later) it might not be such an issue, but right now it certainly was. He did kind of wish he could've stayed longer, but since this really wouldn't be the last time he'd be able to see them, Ganymede felt no real reluctance about going back. Worse was that talking about his family had left a hollow dullness in his chest that not even a couple stories from his grandfather about his mother when she was young, or hearing about Dardanos from Elektra, had helped. It stayed there as he wove his way across the room, making the loud, cheerful music and laughter around him cut his tender insides. 

He could not regret this gift at all, but if he'd just have the same opportunity to see his parents and siblings again, even once, maybe it wouldn’t feel so terrible... 

But, as he smiled faintly up at Artemis as he walked around her and Athena, Ganymede now thought he could understand, maybe, why that might not be the best idea, no matter how he missed them. Elektra's words rang loudly in his head, and while that didn't feel like the same thing as just getting to at least see his family again, he could, maybe, see the point. Ganymede would rather not concede that he could see any point at all about it. It was easier when he wasn't reminded of it; days, weeks, disappeared so easily. And then, of course, he was just smacked with missing them. So, really, getting to see his grandfather, Simoeis and Elektra had both helped as much as it had _not_ , but he would not have it undone. It just weighted his steps and made his throat tight and heavy to swallow, despite that he could not afford to be upset about this right now. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Ganymede let it out in a sharp huff and was just relieved Zeus and Hera's couch was still empty when he got there. It'd give him a moment, at least.

" _There_ you are."

Ganymede froze right in the middle of turning around so he could lean against the curving head and armrest of the couch, between it and the small, gracefully three-legged table that held the decanter and, currently, both Hera and Zeus' kylikes. Looking over his shoulder and up at Olympos’ bright, beautiful queen, Ganymede just barely caught himself from biting his bottom lip while his stomach sank. "My lady..?"

"Your timing is improbably impeccable as always, Prince Ganymede." Somehow, Hera managed to make that into an insult instead of either a compliment or just a flat statement of a strange skill. Ganymede, as he faced forward and picked up the jug, spared a precious moment to closing his eyes, swallowing, and wishing it could have been just about anyone else to find him. Perhaps he shouldn't have, though, since he could now feel her right behind him, and while he wasn't trapped, precisely, for she wasn't touching him at all, the weight of her divinity pinned him in place. "We require the cups to be filled."

Considering they were standing there on the little table, entirely empty, that was certainly true. Also far too obvious; if that was all she'd wanted, she would just have told him to bring both decanter and kylikes and wouldn't have come so close. Closing his eyes and glad he wasn't facing her, Ganymede nodded.

"Of course, Queen Hera."

She leaned down, just far enough he could feel the suggestion of her chin above the crown of his head, the drape of her veil brushing against his hair and shoulders, and his heart kicked up a notch. It wasn't that he feared violence, especially not with so many people around. It was just...

"I saw you watching, earlier." She almost sounded pleasant, her rich voice low in a vibrant murmur. Contrasting that was the razor edge underneath her words. "You will never have what I do. You never _can_ , being a boy besides, for you might be immortal, but you are still only human. You can _never_ be his equal. What do you think you have to offer him, in the long run?"

"... I know, my lady." Ganymede could hear the tiniest of wobble in his voice despite his very best effort, and he could find no other words to answer her with. It didn't help to remind himself that he _didn't_ actually want what Hera had. Not... really. Not exactly. What he wanted instead, Ganymede didn't know. Almost worse than that was the last question, for that was partly what lay under the worry of how soon Zeus might lose interest. What _did_ he have to offer Zeus in the long run, after all? He didn’t know. It felt like borrowed time, inevitably compared against Zeus’ other extra-marital relationships and still, the longer it lasted the more it didn’t feel like enough. It was like swimming out into a lake covered in water lilies and reeds, unable to see the extent of the lake and finding it was larger than he thought, again and again. Wanting more time to see how deep and large that lake was, feeling akin to a child who’d gone into the water without permission, and soon a parent would reach him and tow him out of there. Not enough, _never_ enough. 

Not being Zeus’ equal was such a ridiculously small part next to those two other things he barely noticed. Or, perhaps, not in the way Hera had meant. Maybe it _should_ bother him, but Zeus was… he was Zeus, and he made obeying, made what he was compared to Ganymede such a pleasant thing. Maybe that was what he should be embarrassed over, and Ganymede was, but that, again, had definitely not been what Queen Hera had meant. 

He just wished she would have chosen to make that pointed comment some other day, some other time, even if it was exactly because tonight was as it was that she'd seen fit to say it. If it'd been just _one_ thing, he could probably have hidden his reaction entirely, but with him struggling with both missing his family and the hesitant confusion when it came to what Hera had chosen to taunt him about, her words just hit worse. Because she didn't need to raise her hand or her voice, or say much of anything at all, to really hurt him. Usually, as rarely as it happened, Ganymede could take it with grace. 

Tonight, he could not. Not as much poise and grace as he wished he could take it with anyway, and his throat was thick and trembling as he swallowed again, still out of words.

"Come, then." She straightened up, her voice sharp but cool, no longer so very pointed, and Ganymede picked up the kylikes in addition to the jug he'd grabbed earlier. So very relieved that would be the extent of her lashing out tonight. Trotting after her, he managed to keep his shoulders even and his chin raised. By the time he was pouring first one cup full and then the other, handing each to the king and queen of Olympos in turn while they were talking to Poseidon, Themis and Hades, Ganymede had his expression, if not his emotions, under control.

And at least he wasn't required to stand next to them - he could go back to the couch and still see them around the curving edge of a pillar, so if they needed their cups refilled again, he could just come over then. It gave him a chance to put the jug down and rub his mouth, biting his tongue behind the protection of his hand.

It didn't matter.

It really didn't. Not when he had more than anyone else had gotten, not when he had more than what he should by rights have. But again the thoughts of _how long_ crept in. Because time, more of it, was definitely one thing he did want. Zeus' infidelities didn't last so very long, did they? Ganymede wasn't sure he knew the length of time for any of them that he knew about, and it wasn't exactly something he could - or wanted - to ask about, to bring attention to. He tried to tell himself all of that, but the problem was it was so much harder to ignore Hera’s words now than it'd been the first time she'd said them. It was also only half the reason it hurt more. The rest was all that it was over one and a half years later and he was simply _feeling more_. Wanted more, wanted it to last with a lot more earnestness than he'd allowed himself to think he did that first time. It'd been a lot easier to say he'd be happy with what he'd gotten when whatever _this_ was had barely begun.

And against all that stood Hera's pointed words; they were such small, simple words, and it shouldn't matter so much, but it did.

"Ah, Prince Ganymede, have you--- Oh, now, what is it?"

Ganymede jumped, startling as he looked up at Aphrodite, and this time, at least, his reaction was nothing but surprise instead of too-revealing hurt. He hadn't noticed her approaching at all, which was ridiculous; now that she'd spoken up, he could feel infinite, sweetly warm weight of her presence, and it was as subtle as it was not. He had no idea how he'd somehow been surprised by her approach.

"It's, ah, it’s nothing, Lady Aphrodite." He smiled, and it was a perfectly polite one, if perhaps not quite as bright as he might otherwise make it. "Have I what?"

"Hmm." 

She pursed her glittering pink lips as she watched him for a moment that grew uncomfortable and uncomfortably long, her green eyes sparkling but narrow. Finally Ganymede had to glance away, and not at all because her divine regard was making him shaky and breathless. Her attention just made him awkwardly aware of everything he'd been thinking of tonight, again, but especially when it came to Zeus and Hera. Aphrodite sighed, a sweetly breathy noise that could have been obscene if the pitch and breathiness was just _slightly_ different; now it was merely an airy exhalation of concern as she closed the distance between them and sat down on the couch like she owned it, one leg folded over the other. Her dainty feet just barely brushed the shining floor. Her toe- and fingernails were the same shimmering, delicate colour as her lips. 

"Seen Eros. Clearly you haven't, not recently anyway, but I'm not in such a hurry to find him."

She eyed him with bright, inquisitive eyes that weren't so much questioning as they were thoughtful, and Ganymede would rather have had the former than the latter. Questions could be squirmed out of, answers could be made into a smoke-screen (or an attempted such, anyway). Thoughtfulness meant she might know - and really, as the Goddess of Love, why wouldn't she be able to figure it out with barely a glance when he was currently not feeling at his best and thus not quite as capable of hiding his feelings?

"I assume you don't regret what's going on," Aphrodite finally said, just as Ganymede was about to give in and prompt her, for this was clearly happening either way. Wide-eyed, he blinked at her, and then, glancing away, towards the little knot of deities he'd served earlier. There was a blush that wanted to erupt, but the tight squirm in his belly kept it at bay.

"... No, my lady."

No, he didn't, even when Queen Hera managed to burrow under his protections, when he worried about how long this would last and what Zeus might even be interested in aside from his pretty face. How could he, when the rest of it was so overwhelmingly amazing? Maybe it would all have been better if he only had had this for a couple months, if Zeus had fallen in like a shooting star, burning them both up in the falling, there and gone; he wouldn’t feel so much now, in that case. Maybe that would have been better, and Ganymede knew he would have been able to live here anyway. People got their hearts broken all the time and even had to live around the person who had left them. He would hardly be special in that way, and would, hopefully, have learned to live with it. Would hopefully learn to live with it if, or when, Zeus might tire, no matter how much that thought made his chest unpleasantly tight. 

But no, he didn't regret it.

He just wanted so much more than he had, and even if he didn't know what else he wanted, more time was still a terribly selfish, greedy thing to want, but he couldn’t feel ashamed for wanting it. Ganymede didn't even notice it, but he'd straightened up a little as he answered.

"Good."

Ganymede looked over, once again startled, and Aphrodite smiled at him, her green eyes - like her son's, like his own, like the river gods'; like deep, sun-lit water - sparkled with mirth as well as something darker. She leaned in, reaching out to cup his cheek.

"The heart doesn't always listen to the laws of society or the universe, Prince Ganymede, and while Kronides can afford to disregard such things often and feel nothing for it, you're only human. Involved in this so deeply, it would be a sad thing to see you would rather it not be happening, even with all the genuine feelings you have about it, for him."

 _Now_ Ganymede blushed, eyes darting sideways in the direction Zeus was in, then back to Aphrodite and down, away from her bright, painfully _aware_ gaze.

"My lady..." He wasn't sure what to say, if he _had_ anything to say, and floundered to a stop, shrugging helplessly.

"It's seldom such brilliance come unaided, and I'm pleased to be able to see it," Aphrodite said, and there was a smile in her voice, for Ganymede couldn't manage to lift his eyes to see it for himself. Her words made it clear that neither she nor Eros had apparently had any direct hand in his involvement with Zeus and that... was a surprising relief. Of course, Zeus had said the same thing, that first time he’d kissed him dizzy, but he’d meant no arrow for _himself_. Not that Ganymede had wondered if he’d been struck, because it seemed to him he should have a lot less terrible worries in that case. So it was a relief, all in all. An exception he might be, but one that was entirely genuine for both of them. "Now, let me tell you a secret."

Aphrodite gently patted his cheek as she leaned closer, so he could still hear her over the glittering echoes of music and conversation with her voice lowered into thrumming darkness. "I might admittedly be a little jealous still that he got to you before I even got a chance to try. But, that isn't the secret."

She chuckled, surely as much for Ganymede's scandalized blush as for his silent hesitation over whether to say something about that or not. She helped him by shaking her head, lusciously dark brown strands brushing her cheeks with the motion.

"No, the secret, darling Ganymede, is that if it was only about your stunningly handsome looks and body, he would have lost interest by now. It wouldn't make you any less deserving of your position, but if there wasn't anything more about you than your godlike loveliness and allure, Father Zeus would certainly have found other pastures to graze by now. If you think this is worth it, then don't fear the details so much. I think you'll be surprised." Closing the rest of the distance between them, Aphrodite pressed a kiss, light as a butterfly fluttering around a flower, landing lightly to sip from it, to his forehead and then slipped off the couch, giving him a wink. "I'll send Eros over when I find him."

"... Thank you, my lady." Whether he was thanking her for the words, the warm press of kiss that felt like a blessing, or for her promising to send Eros over as the distraction it was, Ganymede didn't know, and really, did it matter? Aphrodite gave him a last, nearly dismissive smile and a little wave, then wandered off, disappearing among the crowd.

Aphrodite's words didn't really change or take away the hurt Hera had caused tonight, or entirely dispel his worries, but even half of a chance that she was correct - and why wouldn't she be? - that it wasn't _just_ about what he looked like? That this thing had already lasted longer because he did have something else to offer? That did indeed help, maybe with feelings he hadn't even been paying attention to over the focus of just hoping for more time.

For if he had something to offer, if this… relationship, had lasted this long because Zeus saw something more, then that was a pretty good reason for him to still get more time for it, wasn’t it?

"Ganymede!" Eros came flying, and quite literally so, over the floor. He trailed shouts about _slow down_ , _stop that, you cursed menace!_ and other such similar outrage, and Ganymede was laughing before they even collided, Eros swinging them around. They would have fallen to the floor if Eros wasn't stronger than his slim youth's body suggested and he didn't have wings, but since he did, they wobbled and swayed, and Ganymede lost contact with the floor for a second or two before they settled, steady again. "I heard from my lovely and awful mother you were feeling lonely, entirely neglected as it were, so here I am."

That wasn't exactly it, but Ganymede would have been happy to deal with this overdramatic solution to his need for distraction and company even if it had just been about being left standing here alone for too long. It left him laughing until his shoulders shook, some more of the weight sliding off with the bright sound and Eros’ exuberant presence.

"Something like that. I'm still not playing a game tonight!" Throwing an arm around Eros' shoulders and half hugging him smoothed his offended huff, and the young god smiled instead. A smile which widened into a grin again soon enough as Eros leaned in close to Ganymede’s ear while he threw an arm around his waist. 

"Well then, let me tell you all about what you've unfortunately have had to miss so far, instead!"

That was definitely bound to be a more than acceptable and entirely too entertaining of a distraction, and Ganymede nodded. "I'm sure it'll make me regret missing seeing it myself, but yes. Tell me."

And by his grin and the wild, sharp glitter in Eros' eyes, like the most wickedly gleaming points of arrows caught in the glare of a shaft of sunlight, it was bound to be good, too. Besides, the night wasn't over; there was plenty of time for Ganymede to get the chance to witness the sorts of shenanigans these types of festivities brought to the attendees.

###### 

Later, so much later it was honestly early enough to shade towards light, when Ganymede was sprawled face-down on his bed with one arm shoved under a pillow and his face mashed into it and liable to wake himself up for half smothering himself in a buzzed haze of being mostly-asleep, the door opened. Ganymede's response was an incoherent mutter that probably had been intended to include Eros' name in protest for whatever shenanigans the drunk god clearly was still of a mind to wreak on some unfortunates and attempt to pull Ganymede along on. His answer was a deep, rolling chuckle and the bed dipping under a lot more weight than Eros possessed.

Zeus had to fight Ganymede for the pillow when he tried to lift him up so he could slide down on the bed, hugging the youth to himself with his nose buried in Ganymede’s hair. By the end of the struggle it was a wonder the room wasn't echoing with his laughter as Ganymede huffed, pouting even while still mostly asleep.

"Wh---"

"Go back to sleep, Ganymede," Zeus murmured, brushing feathery, twining curls away from Ganymede's face where only the barest glitter of green could be seen past his lashes. The pout on that sweetly stunning face turned into a confused scrunch before Ganymede yawned and lifted a hand, vaguely waving it in the air before it landed on Zeus' broad bicep.

"But... th'ght you---"

" _Sleep_ , my prince." He slid down a little further on the bed, hiking the boy, heavy and loose, up against him yet a little closer, and Ganymede melted against him, warmly loose and not just heavy in sleep. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

A large thumb skating the smooth curve of Ganymede's cheek, and he sighed, drooping, and closed his eyes.

He was more than willing to do that, and if all Zeus wanted to do was to rest with him in his arms, wasn't that all the more reason to go back to sleep? He'd expected to sleep, and wake up, alone, and if not that, then be woken up for a reason. But Zeus seemed to be here for nothing but his sleeping company. More time, though he would barely know it, and time given for no other reason than Ganymede himself.

It was definitely all worth it.


End file.
